


Discovery

by verucasalt123



Series: 2013 wishlist_fic fills [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: BAMF John, Guns, M/M, Mugging, Prompt Fill, Slash, kink discussion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-01
Updated: 2013-12-01
Packaged: 2018-01-03 03:23:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1065176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verucasalt123/pseuds/verucasalt123
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>for obessionality, who asked for BAMF!John and gunkink</p>
            </blockquote>





	Discovery

**Author's Note:**

  * For [obsessionality](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=obsessionality).



Considering the kind of life they led, the dangerous situations John and Sherlock had been in so often during the short time they’d known each other, one would think that a simple random encounter with a mugger during their walk home from supper would be rather uneventful. Something Sherlock would be able to delete, if not at least just shake off as an inconvenience. Being pulled into an alley and seeing the glint of steel in the man’s hand as he demanded Sherlock’s wallet wasn’t what had him so worked up. The mugger had simply made a mistake – accosting _two_ men at once was something he’d never do. It was just that John had stopped for a moment to admire the items in a shop window, leaving Sherlock to walk several yards in front of him for long enough that the man thought Sherlock was walking alone. 

John didn’t even think, just quietly stepped behind the mugger before he’d even finished his demand. Sherlock could have disarmed him easily, and certainly would have if given the chance. Instead, the loud and instantly recognizable sound of a handgun being cocked directly behind his ear caused the man to drop his knife immediately, eyes going round as saucers. A life of crime didn’t directly translate into having seen or heard firearms on a frequent basis, but it did confirm that whoever was holding the gun wasn’t a police officer. The next sound he heard was a quiet, calm voice.

“Have I got to tell you to run?”

The answer to that question was an unequivocal _no_. 

Standing there staring at each other, John and Sherlock were silent as John returned his pistol to the inside pocket of his jacket after clicking the decock. 

Unsurprisingly, Sherlock was the first to speak. “You carry that around with you? All the time? How could you do that without me noticing?”

Gesturing back to the street, John continued walking and replied, “Not all the time. At night, though. And I don’t know, I assumed you were aware.”

Sherlock was uncharacteristically quiet until they got back into their flat at Baker Street and John went to return the gun to its place under the false bottom of the desk drawer. Wouldn’t do for one of Lestrade’s crew to find it on a pretend drugs bust – maybe some would overlook John’s illegal possession of the weapon, but it wasn’t a chance he was willing to take considering the very serious consequences he’d face if he was charged for it. Before he could put it away, though, Sherlock interrupted him. 

“Can I hold it?”

John’s first instinct was to say “no”, but he quickly realized that if he did, Sherlock would just go and get it some other time, when John wasn’t there to supervise. It was better this way, so he just ejected the clip, making sure there wasn’t a round still chambered, and handed it over. 

Sherlock looked annoyed but didn’t comment on the fact that John wouldn’t give him a loaded weapon. “I didn’t ask, before, because I figured my deductions were enough, but…how did you get this here? Why?”he asked, turning the gun over in his hands and examining it closely. 

“How about this”, John began, taking a seat next to Sherlock on the sofa. “Why don’t you tell me what you deduced? I can let you know if you’re wrong or right.”

“You found a way to return home without relinquishing the pistol you were issued in Afghanistan. Knowing it was there was a comfort, in some ways, a sense of security. Possibly on some of your bad days you may have considered…” Sherlock didn’t seem to want to finish that thought. Not something he wanted to consider now that John was no longer depressed and miserable, now that the two of them were involved intimately, now that Sherlock cared so deeply for John. “Regardless, you kept it, you’ve used it, despite the considerable risk. Not that I’m complaining, mind you”, he said with a smile, “considering that you’ve saved my life with it _at least_ once.”

John twisted so he could prop his legs across Sherlock’s, and reached for his hand. “You’ve got most of it. I never had to turn in my service weapon because it was lost in the firefight, but I found this one and managed to get it, and a decent amount of ammo, back with me. At the time, I wasn’t thinking much of the legal aspect. I don’t regret it, because of exactly the reason you said. The risk of keeping it was nothing to me when it came down to using it to protect you. You don’t know much about guns, do you?” He hesitated to ask the question, because Sherlock could get stroppy when it was implied that he lacked knowledge of…well, _anything_ , really. 

“I don’t”, Sherlock admitted, “never needed to. Even with my work, I’ve rarely encountered them. The police I deal with aren’t the type to carry weapons. I’d like to, though”, he continued, quietly, “if you wouldn’t mind telling me.”

Well, John wasn’t about to pass up this chance. He didn’t get to enlighten Sherlock on many subjects, and now that he was showing an interest, it was best for John to make sure he had reliable information. “What do you want to know?”

Scooting closer to John, Sherlock was still studying the pistol in his hand, looking at it almost reverently. “Just this one, what is it? How’d you learn to use it?”

“Oh, I’d never touched one before Army training. And this one’s the same as the one I was issued once I was deployed. It’s a Sig Sauer, the magazine holds ten 9mm shells, and it’s semi-automatic – you don’t have to cock it each time you shoot, but you have to pull the trigger for each shot. Had to learn to shoot right-handed, everyone did. It wasn’t difficult, not for me, anyway. My medical training had already taught me to be precise, steady-handed, patient.”

It was becoming clear that Sherlock was building up to something with all this, John just had to wait until he was ready to say whatever it was. “Tonight…I don’t know, I was afraid, I suppose, for a moment. A mugger is easy enough to dispatch if you know how to fight. If it had been him with one of these, instead of you, I would certainly have reacted much differently. But when I realized you were there, when I heard that sound…you were completely calm, totally in control. I wasn’t surprised to feel relieved, but I didn’t expect to feel…”

Oh. John knew exactly what kind of feeling Sherlock meant. He could tell just from the tremor in his voice, even if he couldn’t feel the erection pressing against the bottom of his calves. It was almost impossible, but he managed to stifle a laugh, afraid Sherlock would take it the wrong way. “Darling. You have a kink, don’t you?”

Flustered, Sherlock replied, “Well, I didn’t, before tonight! I mean, if I did, I didn’t know it until tonight. The time with the crazy cabbie, I couldn’t see you, it wasn’t so close. But tonight you were _right there_ , all confident and natural, like the gun was a piece of you.”

“All right, I’ve never thought of firearms in any kind of sexual way, but I know how you like to experiment…so yeah, we can explore that. Just like this, though. Don’t ask me to bring a loaded handgun into our bedroom. You know how cavalier you can be about just about anything, but this is not one of those things, do you understand?”

“Of course”, Sherlock said, smiling as he leaned in for a kiss, the unloaded Sig pressed tightly between them. As the kiss grew more heated, John backed up a bit, taking the gun from Sherlock’s hands. 

“Give that back to me. And let’s take this to the bedroom, yeah?”


End file.
